


retrouvailles

by chorusofthesong



Series: here, my dear! [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, angst disguised as fluff kinda, geez this is too hard, short two-shot i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7811119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chorusofthesong/pseuds/chorusofthesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mingyu really, really likes flowers— Wonwoo doesn't share the same enthusiasm. Mingyu still tries, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (I.)

**Author's Note:**

> (n.)  
> the happiness and joy of meeting again after a long time.

☼ ☼ ☼

  

“What’s your favourite flower?” Mingyu asks, poking Wonwoo in the tummy with a pencil and eliciting a groan from the older student. Wonwoo looks down at Mingyu from his seated position on the bed, and shoots him a withering stare, the way he does sometimes when Mingyu has done something stupid (like bothering Wonwoo while he was studying).

 

“Mingyu, we have finals coming up in two days,” Wonwoo grumbles, pulling the hood of his jacket over his face. Mingyu still doesn’t understand why Wonwoo likes to wear his jackets with the zippers facing the back, but he doesn’t mind it in the slightest, because Wonwoo always looks adorable all covered up in them. It's not like Wonwoo was ever one for the conventional, anyway. 

 

“Just tell me,” Mingyu says. He pushes his books off his lap and clamours onto the bed, opting to seat himself on his boyfriend’s lap instead. Mingyu tugs the hood down to reveal a very unimpressed Wonwoo, and he laughs before pressing his lips earnestly against his. Wonwoo's lips taste like spring— a fresh and minty flavour that will forever have Mingyu addicted to.

 

“Pretty please?”

 

“I fail to see how relevant flowers are to our studies,” Wonwoo mutters, but he does reciprocate by kissing Mingyu back firmly, eyes fluttering shut. He jabs Mingyu in the side roughly with a finger afterwards, trying to push the lanky boy off of him. Wonwoo keeps this up for a minute before giving up and wrapping his arms loosely around Mingyu’s waist.

 

“Get off me, you’re heavy.”

 

“I want to know,” Mingyu says, stubborn. Wonwoo opens his eyes to the sight of a pouting Mingyu, looking very much like a kicked puppy. A defeated huff leaves his lips, and Wonwoo purses them. The corners of his lips are quirked, and there's a marginal hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

 

“Roses and carnations,” Wonwoo finally says, and his lips soften into a smile that has Mingyu feeling breathless. Wonwoo had always been expressive, as long as you knew where to look. “Large ones. You know, like, those as big as your palm?”

 

“I’ll make sure to get you them next time,” Mingyu promises, with all the suaveness and charm of a newborn deer, and Wonwoo laughs.

 

“What’s next? You’re going to ask me what I want for my birthday, too?” Wonwoo teases, an eyebrow raised in the same patient, patronising manner as the first time they met. In Mingyu's defence, he had no idea that Jeonghan's roommate was a living, walking and breathing Greek statue back then, and that the cookies he had swiped (stolen) from the fridge were made by said Greek statue. That was _one way_ to make a first impression. (Way to go, Mingyu.)

 

Mingyu retaliates by pouncing on the older student, pushing him down onto the bed and tickling his sides viciously. Wonwoo kicks out with his feet and falls over himself with laughter, but then Mingyu’s kissing him and holding him and it’s all Wonwoo can do not to melt there and then.

 

(Wonwoo's not blushing, he really isn't—) 

 

Mingyu pulls away, looking down at Wonwoo with a boyish grin. The older student is breathless, lips pink and parted. Wonwoo looks beautiful, even with his fringe slightly damp from sweat and cheeks reddened from the exertion of fighting against Mingyu. 

 

“That wasn’t necessary— you know I’d appreciate anything you get me, right?” Wonwoo says. "You're an idiot, sometimes, Kim Mingyu."

 

There's a note of exasperation, but Mingyu knows Wonwoo well enough to just barely pick up on the accompanying shyness in his voice. Wonwoo brushes his fringe back and away from where they’re poking into his eyes, lips pursed into an indistinct pout which is quickly kissed away.

  
“I know,” the younger student replies, eyes twinkling with mirth.

 

☼ ☼ ☼

 


	2. (II.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been seven hundred and four days, six hours and thirty-nine seconds. Mingyu is still waiting.

☼ ☼ ☼

 

“The flowers are blooming well this spring.”

 

Mingyu pauses in his humming. He nods his head and flashes the florist a small smile, looking down at the bouquet of roses and carnations being carefully arranged in front of him. “Yes, they are rather beautiful this year.”

 

“For your lover, again?” The florist smiles kindly, eyes bright with delight at Mingyu’s appreciation. The old lady adds an extra bunch of baby’s breath in between the pale, white roses and pink-tipped carnations, the blooms melding together pleasingly in a myriad of colours. Mingyu nods and smiles again, a more genuine one this time at the lady’s goodwill, and she gives him a motherly one right back.

 

“You must love him a lot, to be giving him a bouquet every week for so long,” she continues, voice muffled momentarily when she darts behind the counter. Mingyu adjusts his coat and laughs, a short exhale of air that is all the right amounts of politeness and mild amusement before he straightens his cuffs.

 

“Considering the amount I’ve spent on all these flowers, he better appreciate it,” Mingyu quips, and the old lady laughs as she pops her head back up from the table.

 

“Oh, honey, I’m very sure he does,” she says, straightening up with a satin ribbon in her hands. She ties the ribbon carefully around the flower stalks before handing the bouquet over to Mingyu. Their hands speak volumes of two very different worlds, one smooth and pristine, with no visible blemishes and the other aged greatly with time, wrinkled with fatigue.

 

Mingyu fumbles for his wallet, and it takes a while before he finally manages to pull it out of his coat pocket. He reaches out to pay for the flowers, but the old lady just smiles and folds his fingers back gently over the credit card, shaking her head.

 

“It’s your hundredth bouquet, is it not? Take it as a gift from me,” she says. Mingyu frowns, the beginnings of a protest forming on his lips, but the lady holds up a hand, raising her eyebrows expectantly. Relenting, Mingyu pockets his wallet and bows his head in thanks, a quick up and down motion. He turns to walk out of the flower shop and back into the nondescript alley it’s snuggled in, but not before calling out to the florist with a fond smile, “I’ll make it up to you someday!”

 

“You can do so by inviting me to the wedding!” She replies happily, waving, and Mingyu freezes in his footsteps. He flinches at her words, and there’s a sudden, very real constriction around his heart that's threatening to cut off his circulation. A shudder runs down his back, the hazy memory of a time long gone pervading his mind.

 

_"You're an idiot, sometimes, Kim Mingyu."_

 

The moment passes, and then Mingyu's waving back, a breathy laugh leaving his lips.

 

“Of course, I won’t forget.”

 

☼ ☼ ☼

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really bad at being subtle can you tell or am i being /too/ subtle asdhgjskd
> 
> anyway yep here's a short twoshot that i wrote a while ago! as always please leave your thoughts (and suggestions if you have any!! :-)) if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading!!


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